This is my main girl-friend, Brandy.

My Dad heard Brandy barking several days ago, it was a weekday, and Brandy’s Mom was at work.  Now Brandy knows when My Dad is taking me for a walk, or going by-by in the Scion xB, or if he is just walking with me.  Brandy loves My Dad, and she know that if she calls to him, he will drop everything to rescue her, to take her for an emergency walk, or to allow her to come over to MY place to play with me.  And when Brandy comes over to MY place, she acts like its HER place…sort of.  She eats MY food, she eats MY chew toys…but she lets me jump on her, play fight, nibble her legs, sniff her ears, play-bite her neck, and play tug of war with my sheep plush toy.

But when I visit Brandy’s house – LOOK OUT – I never know how she is going to greet me…happily or VERY MEAN, like she wants to open my thoracic cavity.  Brandy is very passive when she is off-turf, but when she is ON-TURF, that is, in her house or near her front door, she is a demonic schizoid.  “OBEY MY RULES, DON’T TOUCH MY TOYS, DO NOT LOOK AT MY FOOD, DO NOT KISS MY MOM!!! YOU ARE IN MY DOMAIN…ARRRRRRRGH…

“ok, ms. vader.  i don’t mean to upset you, i won’t look at you, i’ll pretend i am your prisoner, jeeez…take it easy…have you ever thought of a prescription for doggy-xanax, like a 20 year prescription?”

But come over to my place and we’re like…soooooo mellow.  Pick a personality, Brandy.  Love, Magic

Brandy and me at MY place…no arguing, no troubles, because I am a mellow guy!

Brandy likes all the attention I give her.

“Yes, hold still, the bully-stick is in there SIDEWAYS!

Believe it or not…my plush sheep is still in one piece…well, except for the surgically removed squeaker.